


All That Jazz

by uena



Series: The Road to Hell (is Paved With Good Intentions) [13]
Category: The Tomorrow People (2013)
Genre: Dirty Bad Wrong, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-27
Updated: 2013-12-06
Packaged: 2018-01-02 19:45:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1060850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uena/pseuds/uena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They've been doing this for a week now - Jedikiah taking John home with him - and the new routine is doing John good, Jedikiah can see it. What he fails to notice is John's desire for a lot more than just sharing the bed with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hope_calaris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hope_calaris/gifts).



> I had a plan for this. This was supposed to be Porn With Very Little Plot. And I thought everyone was on board for once, eagerly jumping on The Fun Train, but no, not John.
> 
> About halfway through this, when he was supposed to get all hot and bothered, John said: I have an issue with this plan!  
> And I responded: "Well, okay, what's your issue then?"  
> Answer: "I have issues."
> 
> And he does. A lot of them.  
> Hence no porn in the first chapter, but instead ... this.
> 
> Oh, and the bad pun in the first part? That was Hope Calaris, not me. I'm merely responsible for all the other nonsense.

It’s Sunday, and Jedikiah has fallen asleep on the couch. It’s early in the afternoon, the midsummer sun bathing the whole room in light, streaming in through the patio door and the big window making up most of the south wall.

Jedikiah wakes with a start, scattering the files that were lying on his chest, almost knocking off his glasses. For a few seconds he feels completely disoriented, simply because he doesn’t usually nap on the sofa, but then he gets his bearings.

It takes him about two seconds to notice that John isn’t in the room.

Jedikiah sits up with atypical haste, looks around him with a sudden urgency he probably couldn’t explain, even if forced. It’s not like John would run away from him. He’s probably just gone to the –

Jedikiah’s searching gaze encounters the window, and stops. John’s outside – his blond head just visible above the window-frame.

Jedikiah collects the fallen papers, re-organizes and puts them away tidily before he gets up from the sofa, puts on some shoes and opens the patio door.

John’s head turns around at the sound, and he’s grinning at Jedikiah, kneeling in front of the abandoned flower bed at the south end of the garden, his hands dirty up to his wrists, a heap of pulled weeds to his left. “Oh hey, you woke up.”

There’s a smudge of dirt on his cheek.

“Yes,” Jedikiah drawls, slowly stepping out onto the patio and sauntering over the dry grass to John’s side. John, who isn’t wearing any shoes, who’s barefoot and warm under the summer sun, his white tank-top only accentuating the beginning redness on his shoulders. “I woke up.”

John grins up to him, carefree and happy, and then resumes freeing the flower-bed of its encroaching guests. It’s been a week, since Jedikiah took him home for the first time, a week that had Jedikiah witness John becoming more and more relaxed in his presence, more daring, sometimes even impish.

It might have to do with the fact that John hasn’t spent a single night at headquarters during that week. A proper mattress can do wonders for the soul, it’s a universal truth Jedikiah can testify to.

“You could have taken one of my books or turned on the TV, you know,” Jedikiah teases him, watches John’s hands working in the dark soil. “Maybe even have woken me up.”

“Nah,” John says, wipes the sweat from his forehead with his right arm, adding another smudge to his face. “You were looking tired all through the morning, I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Very considerate,” Jedikiah murmurs, and it really was. He’s still not quite used to sharing his bed, waking up much earlier than is probably advisable. Hence the unplanned napping. “But … gardening? Really?”

“I like it,” John claims, and the angle he’s looking down from at him allows Jedikiah to see the tiny grin he’s sporting. “It earths me.”

Jedikiah pulls a pained face. “Oh God.”

John’s grin widens, unrepentant. “Not as bad as some of your puns.”

“Oh yes, it was. So much worse, actually. You’re getting sunburn, John. Come inside.”

John draws out another weed. “But I really like this.”

“And I will allow you to continue when it’s not the middle of the day and you’re not in danger of roasting yourself. Did you at least put sun-screen on?”

John shrugs his shoulders. “I didn’t know if you had any.”

“I do, actually,” Jedikiah clarifies and puts his hand on John’s left shoulder. It’s almost too warm to the touch. “Bought it last Wednesday when I was at the drugstore for … other stuff.”

“Oh,” John says and gets up, walks back to the patio with Jedikiah, “I … I didn’t know you were sick.”

“I’m not.” Jedikiah opens the door for him, lets him enter the house first. “Come on, I think I have some aloe to put on your shoulders.”

He nudges him gently into the direction of the master bathroom, opens that door as well, then turns on the water so John can wash his hands.

John obediently holds his hands below the stream, then looks over his shoulder at Jedikiah rummaging through his cabinet for the aloe. “What were you buying at the drugstore if you aren’t sick?”

There’s enough worry in his voice to prevent the question from being impertinent, and Jedikiah turns his head to look him directly in the eyes, stare at him over the rim of his glasses. “Lube, John. And condoms.”

The resulting blush is adorable. John jerks his head forward so fast it probably hurt a little. “Oh,” he says, then starts to soap his hands with unprecedented ferocity.

Jedikiah calmly continues his search for aloe.

“Aha! Found it,” he proclaims after a few minutes of slightly strained silence, and turns back to John, the small bottle in hand. John is busy scrubbing at his fingernails with a determined look on his face.

“Do you want to apply it yourself, or shall I?” Jedikiah asks, losing the fight to keep his expression blank – to not smile at John’s obvious fluster.

“You can do it,” John forces out, the tension in his shoulders clearly visible.

So Jedikiah steps behind him, unscrews the cap from the bottle and squeezes some of its content onto the fingertips of his right hand, brushing John’s tank-top to the side with his left. “It’s quite cool, don’t startle.”

John keeps perfectly still under his hands, and his head sinks forward after a few heartbeats, part of the tension draining out of him.

“Your skin is a bit hot,” Jedikiah informs him softly, “but you should be fine.”

John doesn’t say anything in return, but by the time Jedikiah turns towards his other shoulder, he’s holding on to the sink with both hands, with the water still running.

Jedikiah is taking his time rubbing the clear ointment into John’s skin, applies it generously and carefully, scans John’s skin for any possible damage. There is none, and he steps back satisfied, screws the cap back onto the bottle. “There. All done.”

John leans forward immediately, splashes water over his face, rubs it tenaciously, then turns off the water. “Thank you.”

Jedikiah hands him a towel. “You’re welcome.”

John takes the towel from him, avoiding his gaze, his body still turned towards the sink, and Jedikiah frowns. “I did not mean to put you under any pressure, John.”

“No!” John’s head whips around, and he stares at him with wide eyes. “No. I don’t feel … pressured. That’s not – I … I’ve been meaning to ask you anyway, if you’d … I just thought maybe you didn’t want –“

“John,” Jedikiah interrupts him, as gently as possible, “darling, please. Stop for a second and breathe. I’m having trouble getting your meaning.”

John’s fingers clutch at the towel until his knuckles turn white. “I thought you maybe just didn’t want to … go any further.”

There are still water drops clinging to his lashes, making it look as if he was crying. The expression on his face is so devastatingly vulnerable that for a few precious seconds it robs Jedikiah of all his words.

“Why?” is all he manages at first.

John drops his gaze to the floor, his face still wet, and Jedikiah takes the towel back, carefully rubs him dry. “Because you never … well … made any move to take this any further.”

Jedikiah takes a moment to digest this, and puts the towel back where it belongs. John remains where he is the whole time, motionless and quiet.

“John,” Jedikiah finally says, his thoughts more or less in order, “I am aware that asking for what you want is difficult for you, and that asking _me_ for what you want seems to constitute an additional challenge. I was not aware that you were operating under the assumption that I don’t want to be more intimate with you than we already are, otherwise I would have gotten rid of that misapprehension immediately. Because I do want you, John. Very much so. What I was trying to do was give you time, to not rush you into something you’re possibly not ready for.”

“Oh,” John says, for the third time that day, and his voice is small enough to hide behind an ant. “I’m sorry.”

Jedikiah studies him carefully. “You always say that, and I’m sure you always mean it, too – but what I’m trying to tell you, darling, is that most of the time you really don’t need to be.”

John blinks his eyes at him, looking too young and too old at the same time. “Please …”

“Anything,” Jedikiah assures him, almost shocked by the earnest honesty in his own voice. “All you have to do is ask.”

“Please,” John repeats, making an aborted move towards Jedikiah, “just –“

Jedikiah closes the distance between them and puts his arms around John, hugging him close. He really had no idea about John’s doubts, and the frustration with himself about this lack of foresight makes him grind his teeth.

John presses his face into Jedikiah’s neck, and Jedikiah can feel him taking a deep breath. “You’re the first,” he whispers.

Jedikiah closes his eyes. “Yes. I … assumed as much.”

“I don’t know how to go about this,” John continues. “I don’t know how proper relationships work.”

“To be quite frank, neither do I. Never managed a proper one.” Jedikiah brushes a little kiss to John’s temple. “We’ll muddle through.”

John pushes closer to him. “So we … we do? Have a relationship, I mean?”

“Yes,” Jedikiah confirms, his voice unwavering. “Yes, we do.”

He’s almost shocked by this admission, even more so by the sudden realization that it’s actually true. In his arms, John lets out a ragged breath and goes limp. It feels as if he’s been holding that in for a very long time, and Jedikiah holds him up and pulls him closer. They remain like that for a while, none of them speaking.

It’s John who finally breaks the silence, and his words very nearly startle Jedikiah into letting go of him. “Can you … take me to bed now?”

Instead of letting go, Jedikiah pulls back a just a little, looks him in the eyes. “I most certainly _can_. Do you really want me to?”

John holds his gaze, his eyes looking startlingly blue. “I just asked for it, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did,” Jedikiah confirms, brushing the hair out of John’s eyes. “But you were very upset just a moment ago, and this might not be the right time for us to –“

“I just want to be close to you,” John interrupts him. Jedikiah looks down at the non-existent space between them. He actually gets a tiny smile out of John for that. “Ok. Closer.”

Jedikiah pulls an austere face and waves his index finger at John. “Close I can do, no problem. But no funny business. Not until we’ve both digested all this new information, okay?”

John nods, his smile getting bigger. “Yeah. I promise.”

“Ok, then,” Jedikiah allows. “But I won’t take you to bed. Instead, I will take you to the sofa. Because leather just feels weird on your naked ass, and that will hopefully prevent you from getting any ideas.”

His reward is a startled laugh in the bathroom, and John almost smothering him once they’ve reached the living room and made their way over to the sofa.

Jedikiah is lying on his back with John on top of him, too warm and a little too heavy, but somehow it feels right. He lets John snuggle as close as he wants to, takes off his glasses and deposits them on the coffee table, then puts his arms around John to secure his position.

“This is nice,” John mumbles after a while, starts to move his hips absent-mindedly. “What kind of lube did you buy? I heard there are flavours.”

Jedikiah sometimes forgets that under all his issues and self-doubt, John still is a horny 18-year old. He smiles to himself, strokes John’s warm back. “I bought the boring kind, John. No flavours.”

John lets out a little hum, then cranes his neck and brushes his lips to Jedikiah’s. It’s such a rare occurrence that it catches Jedikiah off guard – but once he’s gotten used to the idea he kisses back softly, allows his eyes to fall shut, opens his mouth for John’s tongue.

He lets John take the lead, and he’s surprised when John keeps it soft, when there’s no desperate vehemence to the kiss. John explores his mouth with gentle reverence, doesn’t moan but sighs against Jedikiah’s lips. It’s almost too sweet to tolerate, feels too comfortable and harmless by far.

He can feel that John’s half hard against his hip, but John doesn’t push for anything more, doesn’t even put his hands anywhere near naked skin. If he’s completely honest with himself, it would be far easier for Jedikiah to keep his cool if he could support it by guarding John’s, if he had to calm him down a little.

But John seems to be content to just kiss like this, to actually _make out with him_ , and nothing more. Jedikiah has no explanation as to why that fact should arouse him as much as it does.

He forces himself into passivity, to remain immobile below John’s slowly moving body, to just receive for once, instead of taking control and giving John more than he can handle. Because he doesn’t want to take advantage of John, that’s not what’s supposed to happen. At all. He’s supposed to be a comfort, not additional pressure.

With that resolution in mind he keeps a tight restraint on his arousal, strokes John’s back with the one hand, lets the fingers of his other brush through John’s hair. It’s almost a relief when John’s movements turn urgent for a few delicious seconds, before he breaks the kiss with a gasp. “Sorry!”

Jedikiah looks up at his flushed face from below half closed lids. “How about I take care of dinner now? Give both of us the chance to calm down a little?”

John automatically presses his hips to Jedikiah’s, then bites his lip. “Yeah, that – okay.”

Jedikiah brushes the hair back from his forehead. “Are you feeling better?”

John leans into his hand. “Yes. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. And just so you’re forewarned: Pasta is pretty much the extent of my cooking abilities. But I’m great at desserts.”

John crinkles his eyes at him. “Oh yeah?”

“Yes,” Jedikiah confirms. “I’ve got ice-cream.”

 

They do not actually cook together. There simply isn’t enough _to do_ to warrant that level of organization. But John accompanies Jedikiah into the kitchen and sits down at the kitchen isle, watches Jedikiah fill a pot with water and put it on the stove to boil, then throw together a sauce from tomatoes and paprika.

“You were downplaying your abilities,” John comments while Jedikiah cuts up the vegetables. “I wouldn’t know what to do with those.”

“Sure you would,” Jedikiah contradicts him. “You’re intelligent, you learn fast, and from our trips to several restaurants I know that you like good food. You’d figure it out in no time.”

John keeps quiet for a while, looks down at his hands, flexes them a few times. “You’re kind,” he says then, his voice quiet, hushed.

Jedikiah pauses in his movements, looks at him. “I’m honest, John. I’ve never been kind.”

“To me you are,” John says stubbornly, looks up and into Jedikiah’s eyes. “You’ve always been kind to me.”

“Well,” Jedikiah shrugs his shoulders, doesn’t want to further argue the issue, “you make it easy.” He finishes cutting the paprika and moves on to the tomatoes, shoots a quick glace at John over his glasses. “You’ve always been kind of my favourite.”

John sits up a little bit straighter at the words. “But –“

Jedikiah narrows his eyes at him. “If you say Killian right now –“

“But he’s better than me. At everything.” John looks a little bit lost, but still utterly convinced. It irks Jedikiah to a not so small degree.

“I firmly believe that you have much more potential than him,” Jedikiah tells John, and chops the tomatoes with a little more force than necessary. “He’s just better at guessing what his trainers want from him, and delivering exactly that.”

The reward for those words is a weak little smile. “You’re just trying to make me feel better.”

“Yes,” Jedikiah agrees readily, “but it’s also the truth. He doesn’t have your empathy or your protective instincts, and he sure as hell doesn’t have your restraint. I never saw him pulling a punch for anyone.”

The smile falters and vanishes from John’s face. “Apparently, that’s all I ever do.”

“Yes,” Jedikiah nods, “and that’s a problem – because we want you to be _safe_. But to be fair, we only ever saw you fight people you _know_.”

With that Jedikiah adds the tomatoes to the sauce, and then busies himself with the spices. When he returns his attention to John, he encounters a fixed gaze, determined and full of emotion. “Jed?”

Jedikiah is a grown man, experienced, and certainly too old to blush under a heated gaze, but God help him, he can feel that gaze in his whole body. “Yes, John?”

“After dinner, when … when we’re finished … ice-cream and everything … will you take me to bed, then?” John licks his lips. “Try out the lube … and … and the condoms?”

Jedikiah actually has to clear his throat before he can answer. “I believe I will, yes.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was exhausting for everyone involved, most of all me.

It’s a warm evening, the sun still high enough above the horizon to render turning on the lights unnecessary. The bedroom window is open to let the breeze in, the neighbourhood quiet so late in the day, with only the occasional car engine audible in the distance.

“Just to be clear,” Jedikiah says while he’s taking off his t-shirt, “you can tap out of this any time you like.”

“Noted.” John’s already on the bed, naked and – no reason to deny it – gorgeous. “But I don’t think I will.” He sounds utterly sincere. His arousal is obvious. He doesn’t even try to hide it, is leaning back on his elbows with his legs spread in invitation.

Jedikiah steps closer to the bed while unbuttoning his pants, delicious heat beginning to pool in his gut. “Just promise me you won’t force yourself to go on if you rather wouldn’t.” He watches John glance over to the lube and condoms on the bedside table, watches his eyes go dark with want. “… _John_.”

“I promise,” John says, his voice scratchy and unsteady, licks his lips and looks up at Jedikiah. “But I really want this.”

“I know.” Jedikiah’s tone is almost too similar to John’s, and he clears his throat. “But it can be slightly … overwhelming.”

“In general?” John asks, his eyes following the movement of Jedikiah’s hands where they pull down his zipper. “Or just with another man?”

“Both,” Jedikiah clarifies, pushes down his pants and steps out of them. “The latter just calls for a bit more … preparation.”

Again, John’s eyes flick over to the bedside table, and Jedikiah smiles. “Precisely.”

“So …” John averts his gaze to contemplate the opposite wall somewhere to the left of Jedikiah’s head, “you’ve … done this before.”

“Yes,” Jedikiah says, dry as the desert, “I’ve had sex before.”

“I mean with another man.” John sounds defensive and shy at the same time, and Jedikiah gets out of his boxers in one smooth movement that probably looks practised but isn’t.

“That too, yes.” For a moment, Jedikiah remains beside the bed, gauges John for a reaction.

John directs a shaky smile at him. “Did you like it?”

“I wouldn’t be here with you now, if the body of another man failed to arouse me – don’t you think?” Jedikiah consciously refrains from putting a hand on his hip and striking a pose that would look nothing but awkward in his naked state.

John avoids his gaze, his blush spreading down to his neck. “Did you …? Or – you know …?”

Jedikiah tilts his head. “Do you mean did I bottom or did I top?”

“Yeah.” John clears his throat. “That.”

“Both,” Jedikiah says.

He watches John squeeze his eyes shut, bite his lip – but still a little moan escapes his throat. “And I enjoyed both”, he adds, and gets onto the bed with John. “So. How do you want to do this? I’m good either way.”

John takes a deep, hasty breath, and his eyes fly open to stare at Jedikiah. “I want you to top … please.”

It comes out fast and breathless, and Jedikiah reaches out a hand, puts it on John’s shoulder. The skin is still hot from too much time spent below the midday sun, and he gently rubs it with his thumb. “I would like that.”

John lets out a shaky breath. “How … how do you want me?”

“Relaxed and happy,” Jedikiah quips. “Come here.”

With that he stretches out on the bed, turns onto his side and pulls John close. The sheets are crisp beneath them, with the blanket pushed down to the foot of the bed. John comes easily, lines his body up to Jedikiah’s, eager and enthusiastic as always.

He moans once their hips touch, even more sensitive than usual, and Jedikiah feels the first drops of John’s pre-come leak onto his skin. He swallows another moan, pressing his mouth to John’s – and then he just goes for it.

There’s no finesse to the kiss, no subtlety. He licks into John’s mouth with almost feverish determination, pushing his hips forward in rhythm with his tongue. John doesn’t hesitate for one second to give as good as he gets. He clings to Jedikiah with his whole body, both hands holding on to his back, his blunt fingernails digging into Jedikiah’s skin.

He gasps when Jedikiah grabs his ass, then pushes back into his hands with fervour, his movements instinctive, too heated to be deliberate.

And that’s how Jedikiah wants it. He can’t give John time to think, needs him too aroused to worry about how he’s doing, to paralyze himself with doubt. So he gives John a little more, squeezes his ass and sucks on his tongue, until John is rutting up against him with mindless abandon.

Jedikiah’s breathing hard, his eyes are closed, and his cock brushes against John’s with every push of his hips. He can’t claim to be unaffected, wouldn’t even try to.

John’s innocent willingness to give himself up to him is driving Jedikiah crazy, and he doesn’t know what he wants more: To just take John and fuck him until he doesn’t know his own name anymore … or if he wants to draw this out, be careful and gentle, be actually worthy of the trust John puts in him.

A combination of the two would probably be advisable.

So he doesn’t push John further than necessary, is careful not to grip too tight, not to kiss too hard. He doesn’t want to scare John, after all, just wants him to be, well, _horny_.

He succeeds. So much in fact that he suddenly finds himself on his back with John on top of him, grinding down with almost desperate urgency, the muscles of his ass flexing beneath Jedikiah’s hands.

“Hey,” Jedikiah gasps in-between kisses, automatically pushing up against the hot body above him, “you okay?”

“Yeah,” John moans, his voice sounding like honey on gravel, “I … I just need …”

He doesn’t get to finish. Jedikiah rolls them over so John’s on his back, and he covers him with his whole body. John throws his head back and groans, bares his throat to Jedikiah, and he gives in and licks a stripe up the pale skin, just to below John’s right ear. “You need to come?”

John whimpers.

It’s all the confirmation Jedikiah needs. He pushes himself up so he can kiss his way down John’s torso, with the occasional playful bite at warm, sensitive skin, and he would be enjoying himself even if John weren’t writhing on the blanket, a shivering mess of uncontrolled need.

He likes the feeling of John beneath him, firm and soft at the same time, likes the way his abs twitch under his lips. “I’m going to blow you,” he murmurs, his hands gripping John’s hips, “have you come your brains out.”

He hears John’s breath hitch and takes it as approval, leans forward and licks at the underside of John’s cock – tilting towards his belly, leaking profusely. His reward is a muffled shout, and then John’s hands grab at his head, seeking for support.

“Take the sheets, please,” Jedikiah whispers, lets his breath ghost over the skin he just licked. “I like my hair attached.”

A heartbeat later John is gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles turn white, and Jedikiah takes his right hand off John’s hip to close it around his cock. It’s the first time he’s doing this for John, and he’s going to make it count. John will probably come as soon as he has Jedikiah’s mouth on him, young and inexperienced as he is.

So Jedikiah doesn’t bother with niceties, just takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and goes down on him. It’s not as easy as it used to be, he’s out of practice, but his gag-reflex is as lazy as always. That allows him to take John in with one fluid, daring movement, only stopping when the tip of John’s cock hits the back of his throat.

He pauses, then, just for a second, gets a good grip on John’s hip to prevent him from pushing up – then he starts to move in earnest.

He opens his eyes to look up at John, to see his face in addition to hearing him moaning his heart out. It looks good on John – being half out of his mind with arousal, his mouth fallen open, his lips slick and red from kissing, his eyes rolling back into his head.

Jedikiah only has to go up and down on him a few times before he comes, his hips shooting off the bed despite Jedikiah trying to hold him down. Jedikiah pulls off then, uses his hand to help John through the rest of his orgasm, looks down at him with a satisfied smile. “That was very good.”

John doesn’t answer, is still lost to the world, panting and breathless, his come painting his belly and pooling in the hollow of his hip. Jedikiah lets go of him before he turns oversensitive and lies back down next to him, pulls John into his arms and starts kissing him again.

He’s much gentler this time, his mouth closed and lips soft against John’s. But John opens up for him soon enough, welcomes him in with a tiny moan, satisfied and needy at the same time.

He’s even more pliant than usual after his orgasm, and Jedikiah can’t stop himself from rubbing his cock against John’s thigh, has his hands trailing over John’s back. They wander lower as if of their own accord, cup his ass, careful at first, then with intent, pull his cheeks apart so Jedikiah’s fingers can get between them.

John doesn’t even flinch. He just goes with it, pushes into the touch, can’t seem to get enough. He gasps when Jedikiah’s thumb rubs over his hole, a low, guttural sound, helpless but compliant.

“You like this?” Jedikiah asks him, just to be sure.

John’s eyes, when he looks up at him, are almost black with arousal. “Yeah.”

There’s no way to conceal the answering heat in his voice, so Jedikiah doesn’t bother trying. “I’m very glad to hear that.”

“Knew I would.” John’s breath hitches and his lashes flutter shut when Jedikiah pulls him open a little bit wider, brushes over his hole again. “Been imagining this.”

The words are neither a shock nor even remotely surprising, but they still spur Jedikiah on. “Yeah?” he asks, his mouth directly below John’s ear. “You’ve been wanting me to open and fill you up for a while now, haven’t you?”

“Jed,” John moans, his voice breaking over the one word, and Jedikiah takes it as his sign to get the lube from the nightstand. He opens the cap with one hand, a flick of his thumb, then coats the fingers of his right with the clear liquid, waits a few seconds, lets it warm on his skin.

Only when it’s no longer cold to the touch does he bring his fingers down to John’s ass again, pushes one of them against the rim, circles it carefully and slowly, until it’s relaxed and wet enough to let him in.

He pushes in gently, lets John get used to the idea of being opened and filled, of having someone do this to him. “Still okay?”

The first reaction to the question is a ragged breath, John hiding his face in Jedikiah’s neck, then he murmurs a breathless “Yeah” against his skin. “Feels really good.”

“Good.” Jedikiah pushes a bit deeper. “Can you spread your legs for me?”

The response is immediate, John shifting and hooking one leg over Jedikiah’s hip to hold himself open. “Like … like this?”

“Perfect.” Jedikiah realises that this would be easier if he weren’t so turned on. “You’re perfect.”

John seems to enjoy himself more the deeper Jedikiah pushes into him, starts to push back against his finger, shyly at first, then almost greedily. When Jedikiah brushes against his prostrate he groans and goes limp, his whole body going offline for a few seconds.

Jedikiah does his best to hit the spot again and again, adds a second finger without John seeming to notice. He’s practically pre-verbal by now, a constant flow of little, breathless sighs leaving his mouth, an endless repetition of “ah-ah-ah”, only occasionally broken by Jedikiah’s name.

Jedikiah is dangerously close to losing any semblance of control over himself. He’s fighting hard to keep a tight hold on his desire, keeping his administrations as gentle and careful as he can.

John’s rim is slick with lube, the tight ring of muscle opening for his fingers without any seeming resistance, and Jedikiah scissors them inside of John as deep as he can. John pushes back against them, panting and eager, no trace of hesitation anywhere in him.

He’s already half hard again, so turned on by what Jedikiah’s doing to him that he’s completely helpless with pleasure – would probably do anything Jedikiah asked of him. But Jedikiah doesn’t want to ask John for anything right now – not anything that isn’t this, anyway.

He’s staring at John’s face, lax and almost glowing with arousal, the soft, sensitive curve of his mouth, his eyes half closed and dark, as expressive as ever.

Jedikiah has never been particular about sex, has always enjoyed it, no matter who his partner was, what gender. What they all had in common though was a certain level of self-confidence, self-awareness. They knew what they wanted, what they wanted from him, and most of them were just as aware of what to _expect_ from him. There were no empty promises. They knew he wasn’t in it for any sort of emotional bond or even physical comfort.

John is different.

John is so young, almost too young, he’s innocent and vulnerable, breakable in so many ways, not only the physical. He’s willing to put so much trust in Jedikiah, far too naïve. It should turn Jedikiah off. It does in other people, he has no patience for it. When it’s John it seems like he has all the patience in the world.

He’s never wanted this from anyone else, never wanted to be responsible for someone’s body and mind, someone’s welfare.

With John, it’s easy, somehow. Not only finding the right words – that’s always been easy for Jedikiah, even if he had to downright lie – but the right way to touch him, to be gentle, careful.

The warmth of his body, as unfamiliar as it is waking up next to, feels right. Even more so when it’s slick with sweat, eager and willing beneath his touch.

Jedikiah adds a third finger to the first two, pushes inside John’s body, and he feels John still against him, hears the hitch in his breath, the little clicking sound in his throat. It makes him actually _afraid_ that he’s hurt him, lets his free hand rest on the small of John’s back. “Too much?”

John doesn’t answer immediately. He takes a few, deliberate breaths, his body still noticeably rigid next to Jedikiah’s.

“I,” he starts then, and his voice sounds wrecked, almost as if he’s sobbing, “… I feel so … ah … full.”

The words hit Jedikiah deep, a hot twist of arousal starting in his gut and spiralling out, twining around his legs, his arms, his neck. “I didn’t hurt you?” he asks, keeping his fingers still, his body just as rigid as John’s.

“A little,” John pants, presses his forehead to Jedikiah’s shoulder. “Feels good, too.”

Jedikiah has to close his eyes for a heartbeat or two. The primal instinct to just take and devour is almost overwhelming. “You want me to keep going?”

“Yeah,” John groans, not a trace of doubt in his voice. “Please. And … you … you can go faster … if – if you want to.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Jedikiah growls, and kisses John before he can say anything else, dig his trap a little deeper. He’s almost too forceful at first, biting at John’s mouth, sucking on his tongue a little bit too hard. John whimpers and lets him, starts to move against his fingers again, tightens around them in a desperate attempt to get _more_.

Jedikiah can feel the need coming off of him in waves, greedy and utterly helpless at once. Not an ounce of control over himself or the situation. So he turns gentle again, tender, almost protective.

Because if he’d leave it to John, if he did what John asked of him, he would hurt him, and that’s just not going to happen, even with John’s explicit permission. He twists his fingers carefully, decides he needs more lube and pulls them out all at once.

John basically collapses against him, his fingers digging into Jedikiah’s back, blunt nails scratching over his skin. “Please!”

Jedikiah hushes him with a soft kiss, reaches blindly for the bottle of lube. “Don’t worry, I’m going to fill you right back up, give you all you need.”

John moans, pushes his hips forward, rubs his leaking cock against Jedikiah’s hip. “I … I want you to – to …”

“I know, darling,” Jedikiah interrupts him, his voice low and rough. “You’ll have me inside of you in no time. Just a little more patience, now.”

The words seem to do the trick. John calms down a bit, starts to press little kisses along Jedikiah’s neck and his shoulder, his eyes closed and his body relaxed. He opens up willingly when Jedikiah presses his fingers back inside him, only the tiniest of whimpers accompanying the intrusion.

He’s ready for him, and Jedikiah knows it. What he isn’t sure about is whether or not he’s ready for John. But it would be cruel to not give John what he needs, so Jedikiah pushes his doubts aside, only delays the inevitable for a few more minutes. He makes sure John is as ready for him as he’ll ever be, makes sure he is relaxed and open, properly slicked up.

“Now,” he growls, takes a breath. “If you still want to.”

“You know I do,” John murmurs, presses another kiss to Jedikiah’s shoulder. “Do you want me on my knees?”

“No,” Jedikiah says, licks his lips. “I need to see your face.”

John looks up at him when he hears those words, and his expression tells Jedikiah everything – every last idea and hope John reads into them, when all Jedikiah wants to do is look at John to make sure he doesn’t hurt him.

“Okay,” John says, his voice taking three directions at once, none of them even remotely calm. He squeezes around Jedikiah’s fingers, bites his lip. “You need to …”

“I’m aware,” Jedikiah smiles, crooks his fingers one last time, brushes his prostate.

John fails to suppress the resulting moan, pushes his face into Jedikiah’s chest. “Please … you said … you said _now_.”

So Jedikiah pulls his fingers out of him for the second time, wipes them absent-mindedly on the sheets. John rolls over and onto his back the second he’s able to. “Like – like this?”

“Almost.” Jedikiah takes one of the cushions making up the headrest. “Up with your hips.”

John complies immediately, his body coming off the mattress in a tight bow, all velvety skin and stark shadows in the diminishing light of the room. He’s beautiful, Jedikiah thinks, his vulnerability only adding to the attraction.

Jedikiah places the cushion underneath John hips, and John lies down again, spreads his legs without being prompted, so Jedikiah can kneel between them. Once he’s there, kneeling between John’s legs and looking down at him, the situation seems to gain a certain level of weight.

Jedikiah still has to reach over to take one of the condoms, still has to actually _take_ what’s being offered to him. There’s no doubt that he will – because John might never forgive him – and he’s never felt so much pressure and elation at the same time.

He keeps his eyes on John’s face while he’s taking the condom off the nightstand, only breaks eye-contact to rip the foil open and put it on. When he looks back up at John, John’s face is a mixture between happy and impatient.

So Jedikiah puts his hand into the hollow of John’s left knee, spreads him wider. It’s a shameless position to be in, but John doesn’t seem to be aware of that.

He looks up at Jedikiah from below his lashes again. He’s smiling at him.

“Ready?” Jedikiah asks, and John’s smile gets a little wider.

“I was born ready.”

“That might actually be true for you,” Jedikiah smiles back, takes himself in hand. “Try to slowly breathe out while I push in.”

“Those sound like pregnancy instructi-ah …” John breaks off mid-word, the sound coming out of his throat half moan and half groan.

Jedikiah halts his movements, the head of his cock just having breached the tight ring of muscle around John’s hole. “You okay?”

He sounds strangled, the effort to hold his position clearly audible in his voice.

“Yes,” John moans, “yes, yes, yes – go deeper, please don’t stop, Jed, _please_ …”

John sounds as if he’ll lose his mind if Jedikiah doesn’t comply as fast as possible, so Jedikiah does, pushes in slowly but steadily. He watches John’s face for any sign of discomfort, and there are some, but they’re always followed by pure pleasure, so he doesn’t stop again.

John seems torn between keeping as still as possible and pushing up to meet him, and Jedikiah puts a steadying hand on his hip. “Let me do this,” he forces out between clenched teeth, “please, darling, don’t move … just for a few seconds, okay?”

“Ok,” John breathes, closes his eyes for a heartbeat or two, and Jedikiah can feel him relaxing around him, welcoming him in in a way he’s never experienced before. John is still hot and tight around him, but the desperate edge to the pressure vanishes, until Jedikiah’s in all the way, his balls resting snugly against John’s ass.

He lets out the breath he’s held in then, lets his eyes fall shut and tries to collects his wits.

“Jed,” John says then, his voice small, as if he’s suddenly afraid.

Jedikiah’s eyes fly open, and he’s ready to pull out and _stop_ this, but then John moves, gets his right leg up behind Jedikiah’s back, pulls him in tighter. “Jed …”

“What is it, darling?” Jedikiah asks, and if he was with anyone else, the tenderness in his voice would appal him.

John looks at him, his eyes liquid and dark, full of an emotion Jedikiah doesn’t dare label. “Thank you.”

There’s nothing Jedikiah could possibly say to that, so he starts to move. He’s beyond careful at fist, the movement of his hips barely noticeable even to himself. But John moans, licks his lips and holds his breath for a few seconds.

“Yes,” he whispers then, squeezes his eyes shut and bares his neck to Jedikiah. “Yes, thank you.”

If John thanks him one more time … Jedikiah doesn’t know what he’ll do. Something stupid, probably.

He tries to prevent that by moving faster, little by little, still staring at John’s face, taking in every reaction and every moan as if he’s conducting an experiment and the outcome vital for his research.

He lifts John’s leg up higher so he can go deeper, John spreading himself willingly, biting his lip and moaning his approval.

Jedikiah wants to ask him how it feels, if this is okay, if he’s hurting him – but if he does, John will thank him again, will say things in complete counterforce to what Jedikiah’s trying to do here.

Keeping quiet seems to be the safer option.

John talks anyway, doesn’t need any prompting from Jedikiah. At first it’s mostly Jedikiah’s name interspersed with groans and sighs, but the faster Jedikiah moves, the more verbal John becomes.

“Like that, yes,” he spurs Jedikiah on, urges him to move even faster, do him harder. He seems to have lost every last shred of restraint, and it’s not like Jedikiah minds – enthusiastic consent has always been his biggest turn-on – but John is driving him crazy.

He needs to shut him up. That’s why he leans over, folds John nearly in half so he can kiss him. The position is not comfortable at all, but John doesn’t complain, even tries to sit up and meet him halfway.

The resulting kiss is sloppy and breathless, and John gets so tight around him as if he’s afraid Jedikiah might pull out and leave him feeling empty. John is the one to stop kissing, to lie back down and put both his legs around Jedikiah’s waist, hook his ankles below his ass and use the resulting leverage to fuck himself on Jedikiah’s cock.

“Come on,” he gasps, his voice so desperate it has shivers running down Jedikiah’s spine. “Feels so good, Jed, so, so good.”

He doesn’t seem real, in that moment, nobody could ever be that perfect, push all Jedikiah’s buttons at once until he’s reeling with it.

“I’ll give you anything you need,” Jedikiah promises him before he’s even aware he’s talking. “Anything, darling. Make you feel so good – even better than you do now. Will show you everything, _do everything to you_. You want that, John – don’t you?”

“Yes,” John pants immediately, his back arching, his eyes rolling back into his head. “Let you do anything you want to me. Want you to make me yours.”

A part of Jedikiah knows that John’s probably not conscious of what he’s saying, but that’s not the part in control right now.

“You are,” he growls, his hips snapping forward at an almost brutal pace. He has to forcibly slow his movements, can’t let himself get out of control. “You are mine.”

“Yes,” John sobs, no hesitation or doubt in his voice, nothing but consent and relief.

It’s almost enough to make Jedikiah come. If he could, he’d draw this out forever, make John beg him for release. As it is, he closes his hand around John’s leaking cock, moves it in tandem with his hips.

John goes oddly quiet with the first two strokes, and Jedikiah’s rhythm falters. As a result, John whimpers and stares up at Jedikiah with an expression on his face so open it sends a bolt of pure want through him.

“Please let me come,” John begs, as if he knows what went through Jedikiah’s head just seconds ago. It’s entirely possible that he _does_ , Jedikiah realizes. That John read his mind without even wanting to, that he doesn’t even know it happened.

“I will,” he promises, his voice soft, “don’t you worry about that, darling.”

He continues moving his hand on John’s leaking cock before he does his hips. “We’ll play next time. This time, you don’t have to beg.”

John moans, if in relief or anticipation, Jedikiah doesn’t know. He lets his hips snap forward, a little less careful than before, forceful and determined instead.

He’s so close to coming that he can taste it at the back of his throat. Looking down at John doesn’t help his resilience, but he can’t close his eyes, either. The only thing he can do is make sure John comes with him. So he tries for a better angle, tries to go as deep as possible with every push. The sensation of his balls hitting against John’s ass is nothing but delicious, and Jedikiah lets out a grunt every time he has to pull back again.

Then John’s breath stutters, and he squeezes tight around Jedikiah’s cock a few times, his mouth falling open around a groan that seems to go on forever. He comes in hot white spurts all over his belly, almost up to his chin, and the visual is enough to drag Jedikiah after him and over the edge.

His orgasm hits him hard after all the time he spent preparing John, and he almost falls forward, catches himself on his hands at the last possible moment before he crashes into John.

Not that John would have noticed.

He’s completely wiped out, his eyes closed, his breath ragged and flat. Jedikiah would be concerned if he wasn’t so busy coming down from his own high.

He waits until the vice like grip John still has around his cock lets up a little, and pulls out. John makes a little choking sound, but his face remains relaxed, and Jedikiah gets rid of the condom and gets off the bed to throw it away.

His knees feel a bit weak, and his whole body still tingles, but he manages to walk to the bin and back without falling over. It’s an achievement.

“Come back,” John mumbles when Jedikiah contemplates whether he should make a little trip to the bathroom to get supplies for cleaning up. So that’s that.

Jedikiah returns to the bed on auto-pilot, lets himself fall onto the mattress with a lack of grace he beliefs he’s earned during the last hours. “Here I am,” he murmurs, not at all surprised when John manhandles him on his back, so he can slide on top of him, press as close as possible.

“Just so you know,” he informs John with deplorable absence of authority in his voice, “this time you’re in charge of cleaning up.”

“Okay,” John whispers back. “I’ll get up once I can without falling on my ass.”

Jedikiah blinks sluggishly up at the ceiling. “By the way,” he says, moves his arm up and his hand on John's bottom, cups the right cheek, “how is it?”

“A bit sore,” John answers, because he lives for saying those things to Jedikiah. “But very … happy.”

Jedikiah stares up at the ceiling a bit harder, takes a calming breath. “… Good. That’s the most important thing. That your ass is happy.”

John turns his head so he can press his face into Jedikiah’s neck. “And it really, really is.”

Jedikiah gives up. He closes his eyes, presses his lips to John’s temple. “I’m glad about that.”

John falls asleep on him three minutes later.


End file.
